


His Own Path

by atonalremix



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen, Religious Content, Series Spoilers, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atonalremix/pseuds/atonalremix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Spoilers for 6.15!) While Matt may have decided to join the police force, Tyler realizes that he found his (peaceful, non-confrontational) calling elsewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Own Path

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has heavy spoilers for season 6 - so if you haven't reached that point in canon, please go ahead and turn back unless you don't mind knowing what's to come! That said, I was intrigued by the developments in 6.15 for Tyler and Matt (especially the whole idea of Tyler joining a profession that didn't seem very much LIKE him), so I wanted to write about my interpretation of Tyler's career path. While this is a one-shot for now, I may re-visit this 'verse in the future. Let me know if that seems like something you'd be interested in!

Today was Liz's funeral, and today, they would say goodbye to the last standing parent in Mystic Falls. Miranda and Grayson had sunken to the bottom of the lake; Kelly had fled down in a drunken haze; Miss Abby had transformed into a vampire; and dear ol' Dad had succumbed to fiery ashes. Klaus had killed Mom, while Silas had mercilessly slaughtered Rudy. The circle of life shouldn't have completed itself so soon, Tyler thought as he pushed against his mirror. His parents shouldn't have died before they met their grandkids - hell, they shouldn't have died from supernatural causes in the first place.

As he stares at his gaunt reflection, Tyler forces himself to knot his thin, black tie. (Liv hated them all, so he had hastily bought one last night at the mall in the next town over.) He forces himself to inhale deeply, lowering his shoulders as he smooths the last wrinkles on his black blazer. He's wobbling, even as he wills his feet to remain still. Alcohol, not water, has been keeping him alive for far too long.

God, he's turning into his father: the effects of last night's binge are still lingering, and it's not even noon yet. His cuff links barely hide the edge of his wrist, where he had written _what would Mom do?_ in permanent marker. (He hadn't heeded her advice often, he admitted. No time like the present to make amends.) He shouldn't have written her name, even for subconscious advice. He shouldn't have gained access to his trust fund before his 21st birthday. He shouldn't have let his relationship with Liv sour as quickly as it did.

He shouldn't, he shouldn't... he shouldn't reach for the bottle of bourbon, swish it a little, and gulp its entire contents in one long sip. He was no longer a hybrid. His liver - and his brain - would regret this life decision. He couldn't spontaneously grow a new one, without succumbing to his family's curse, anyhow.

His humanity was supposed to be a dumb second lease on life. In what world? He missed the rush of adrenaline that spiked every time he brought his powers to the forefront, just as he missed the little things like night vision and compulsion.

Most importantly, he thinks, he missed the inability to feel. Her funeral wasn't exactly going to be a cakewalk - and if he didn't hurry, he was going to be late.

 

 

He's stumbling on empty air and invisible steps when he reaches the top of the chapel. Matt gives him one glowering look, full of rage and pity.

Tyler silently agrees: it's not like him to drink and drink the morning of her funeral. He should've been better for Caroline. She had held him the whole night of Mom's memorial; she had watched over him, without even the slightest judgment. She's the reason he even bothered to arrive in this state.

So when Matt says, "Forget it," Tyler wishes he were still a hybrid who could sober up quick. But since he's not, he waits until Matt leaves until he sneaks in the side door and takes a deep breath to walk slow, steady steps to an empty pew in the back of the sanctuary.

 

 

The priest, before Damon gives the eulogy, reads Liz's favorite Bible verses from _Corinthians_.

As he recites, "Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away," Tyler involuntarily stares up at the priest's clothing, and at the Bible he was reading from.

Tyler had never given the church much thought, even while he and Mom were planning the services for Dad's funeral. Mom had done all of the heavy work, and well, he had kind of dropped the ball on a proper send-off for her. The Founders' Council, in his place, had organized a service in the high school gym.

"For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror..."

He involuntarily glances at his friends (if he could even call them that anymore). Elena and Damon are pretending to pay attention; Stefan keeps his eyes on his copy of the Bible; Caroline's visibly shaking; and even Matt's attention was wandering elsewhere. Tyler couldn't exactly blame them. In all their years, they hadn't once broached religion as something grander than them. It just existed in the peripheral of their world, only existing when they needed to tell someone goodbye.

"Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is _love_."

Love, huh? Love as the greatest thing that remained, long after everything else was gone? Now that was a laugh: he had opened his heart up to two girls, only for them to break it off long after he had exposed his deepest, darkest parts of his soul. (Love, he thought bitterly, was more complicated than great.)

This priest wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, for saying love was far greater than they could ever know. If love always saved the day; if love always held his hand... then he wouldn't have felt alone for so long.

 

 

At the end of the service, Tyler stops to speak to the priest. Or rather, the priest stops and places a hand on Tyler's shoulder.

"It's good to see you again, Tyler."

Tyler manages the barest of smiles. "Thanks. You too." He doesn't quite remember the current priest, but Dad had always dragged him and Mom to Sunday services. Tyler would squirm and squirm the entire sermon, trying his best to sit still even though he hadn't understood half the words.

In high school, he had grown above religion, eschewing it for alcohol and sex and everything the Church had stood against. If it wouldn't accommodate him, he wouldn't step foot inside. That had been his silent deal with God. Only now, as he watches staff members talk to one another, does he start to think he's got it a bit backwards. They're supporting each other as they grab flower arrangements, and even bantering a little about their favorite funeral 'verses as they flutter past.

The priest chuckles softly at them. "They're an entertaining bunch, aren't they? So, what're you studying now?"

Good question. Tyler had thought about sociology (Caroline's suggestion) or even international relations (Liv's idea). He hadn't fully committed to any program, instead hopping between majors with each class. Except now... now he thinks he has a solid idea. His lips move faster than his brain, as he blurts out, "I was, uh, I was undeclared, but I think I'm gonna go into Religion."

He couldn't explain it. He really couldn't. Elena's giving him a strange look - were they heading to the Grill already? - so he holds up his fingers to ask for extra time. (She, unsurprisingly, walks out the door.)

"Is that so?" The priest laughs, pulling out his business card. "Then you should stop by here later. We've got room for a college intern if you're interested."

Tyler nods, holding the card up to the light before carefully pocketing it inside his blazer. "Got it."

 

 

By the time he walks into the Grill, he's finally sober. Sober, and half-wondering why he had even expressed an interest in religion to the priest. Drunk Tyler was scarily honest: in his current state, Tyler wouldn't have openly admitted to any passing interest. It didn't mesh with his family history, or his social history, or any history of his at all.

If he decided to study religion - and by extension, theology - it made sense. The church would grant him a peaceful existence, one where he wouldn't directly be responsible for people's lives. This he knew too well, from the work he had witnessed them doing over the course of his life. If he wanted to keep running from a fight, he could always dive straight into the nearest sanctuary.

He slides into a booth opposite Matt, as he says, "I'm sober. Don't ask me to leave." (He doesn't know what he would do if Matt had realized the truth - that drunk!Tyler had still attended the whole service.)

Matt, on the other hand, managed the barest of smiles. "I'm not. I'm glad you pulled it together. The thing is, Ty, I get it, alright? We've all been through so much that it's bound to make us a little crazy..."

Tyler was tempted to roll his eyes. Instead, Matt continued, "But I was thinking, you know, watching the way all those cops honored her today, I want to be a part of something like that. So I talked to one of the deputies, and he gave me an application." At this, he fished out a form, sliding it across the table.

"There's this, uh, officer training program. Seems pretty cool, you know, like something I'm supposed to be a part of. I got one for you too."

Tyler doesn't hesitate to place his hand on the form, before sliding it across the table. "Thanks, but... you know, I've got something else I want to be a part of. Plus, you know, _cops_?"

"Oh yeah." Matt leaned in, his smile finally reaching his eyes as he leans in. "Your curse still technically applies."

If Tyler could've smacked Matt halfway across a table, he would have. Instead, he glances at the others still milling around and wonders if he should get up and find Caroline. "Cops make judgment calls about killing people. I can't... I can't exactly afford that, so I figured I'd find my own path."

(A path that would hopefully grant him more peace than the current uneven, jagged path that threatened to slice his feet open every morning.)

"Let me know when you do," Matt said softly, rising to his feet as he placed his application back in his pocket. "I wanna be there with you the whole way."

For the first time in several days, Tyler could feel a smile genuinely reaching his eyes too. "Thanks. I... I think I will."

As the end of Sheriff Forbes' service had said, he wouldn't let his heart be troubled, nor would he be afraid. This time, he would blaze his own path, and it would be a far more peaceful one than he had ever known.


End file.
